There’s a clawing sensation in my gut. “Why am I not relieved? And don’t you dare protect me. Don’t you dare tell me there’s nothing wrong. You want me to share your life, then trust that I’m strong enough to really be here with you.”
“This is your father, baby. We both know this isn’t just any other problem.”
“Damn it, Rick.”
“I’m not hiding anything.” His lips press together. “I just haven’t told you everything. I haven’t had time.”
“What are we telling Candace doesn’t sound like a question you ask a man who isn’t keeping secrets.”
“They wanted to protect you.”
“Tell me,” I order. “Tell me what I don’t know.”
“Your father’s alive and well but his convoy was attacked. An Iraqi prince’s security team saved him. He’s now a visitor in that prince’s castle.”
“Where’s the bombshell?” I ask, adrenaline quaking through me.
“That Iraqi prince is close to Tag but the good news is that Gabriel can’t get to your father,” he says. “Not when Tag doesn’t want him to get to your father.”
All I can focus on is one thing. “Tag has my father. The attack was a set-up to capture him.”
“Yes,” he confirms. “But your father doesn’t know he’s a prisoner or I assume he doesn’t. And he won’t know until we rescue him and we will. We’re going to rescue him. We have a plan.”
“We have a plan? Really, Rick?” I push away from him. “We? I’m not part of that ‘we’ now am I? I thought we talked about this? I thought we agreed? You said that you’d keep me in the loop.”
“Candy.”
I poke his chest. “Don’t call me that at a time like this because it feels condescending.”
“Fuck, baby. I’m not trying—”
“And yet you succeed.” I press my hand to my forehead and turn away, only to rotate to face him again. “Can’t you just kill Tag?”
“I kill him, the prince kills your father.”
“Can we extract my father?”
“Yes, but that’s complicated. The minute we extract your father, the minute I take Tag’s leverage, he claims new leverage. That’s how he operates.”
“He comes at me.”
“Yes. He’ll kill you, baby. Or he’ll try. And he’ll keep trying. You’ll be on the run your whole life.”
“I don’t care. Just save my father.” Tears well in my eyes. “He’s going to die.” I cover my face, willing myself to get a grip.
“No,” Rick says, and already he’s there, pulling my hands down and cupping my face. “We’re going to extract your father and I’m going to kill Tag. It has to happen in the same moment. It has to be in unison. I promised you that I’d save your father and protect you. I will, baby. I will.”
“When?”
“The night of the governor’s appreciation ball.”
“Why then?”
“It’s the most logical time for me to hit Gabriel. And if we’re right, Tag wants me to look like the jealous boyfriend who got triggered by seeing you with Gabriel. He’ll like that timing. He’ll wait for that timing. If I don’t act then, he’ll push me and he won’t be a pleasant push.”
“Are you,” I can barely ask the question, “are you going to—”
“Kill Gabriel? As orgasmic as that would be, baby, no. The plan still stands. We take Gabriel down. In a perfect world, that happens that night. If it doesn’t, your father’s extraction will be made to look like a military assignment. Gabriel won’t know that he’s in hiding.”
“You really think we can send Gabriel to jail?”
“I know we can. I know we will. It’s the right thing to do. And that’s the kind of man I want to be for you. For us.”
I shove my hair behind my ear, my hand trembling just thinking about what I’m about to say. “If we let Gabriel live, what if my father has evidence that can assure his conviction? What’s to stop him from having him killed, even after he’s arrested?”
“We’ll bury Gabriel deep enough that your father isn’t the key to his conviction,” he says. “For now, we get rid of Tag and we bring your father home.”
“Do I have to go to the ball with Gabriel?”
“Do I want you to?” he asks. “No. Will you have to, for us to pull this off, and save your father? Maybe. Tag will be watching. He’ll be waiting for a reason—”
“To kill my father.”
His expression tightens. “I’m not going to let that happen.”
I hug myself. “What about after the ball? Do I go home with Gabriel?”
“I won’t let that happen. If we can’t find the evidence to get his ass arrested, we’ll provide a distraction.”
“What distraction?”
“A wealthy campaign donor who’ll demand his presence in another city. Gabriel will need to fly out after the ball to make that meeting”
“What if he wants me to go?”
“I can always go ahead and kill him,” he offers.
“Is this where I object?” I ask weakly.
He cups my face again. “We’ll drug him and put him on a plane. He won’t remember telling you to stay behind. We’ll pull the plan together. We got this. You and me and a hell of a team.”
I ball my fist on his chest. “Don’t hide things from me again, Rick Savage.”
“I wasn’t hiding things. You heard a question that I was asked. You didn’t hear my answer. I would have told them what I’ll tell them now. We tell you everything. I am not hiding things from you. I won’t hide things from you. You have my word.” He strokes my cheek. “And I won’t call you Candy unless I’m ripping your panties off and making you scream for me, not at me.”
“That would be smart,” I assure him, and somehow we laugh, but it fades quickly into the uncertainty of the battle before us that leaves me antsy to do something helpful, to do something that makes a difference. I twist out of Rick’s arms and march into the hotel room, walk through the dining room where Adam, Smith, and Adrian are all working. I don’t stop there. I go to the bar, grab the mini vodkas the hotel has stocked in the fridge. When I would return to the dining room, I find Rick in my path.
I grab his hand and shove one of the vodka bottles in it. “Drink. Remember where you put the evidence that ends Gabriel and gets him out of our lives.”
“Vodka makes me forget, baby.”
“I’ll make you remember. Think about Gabriel touching me. Think about him kissing me. Think about—”
“Don’t say another fucking word.”
“Drink the vodka, Rick.”
He cups my head and kisses me, before opening the bottle and downing the vodka.
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
Savage
I drink the vodka because, for whatever reason, it makes Candace feel like she has control. I don’t, however, tell her just how much vodka it takes to make me forget. I don’t plan to be drinking that much ever again. I don’t plan to forget any moment I have with her for the rest of our lives. Fortunately, once we’re at the table, and Asher returns from his room, we begin working through my list of jobs I did for Tag. This stirs Candace’s obsession with looking through the photos she’d taken in her father’s office that might somehow relate in some way.
The day flies by quickly, with a collage of photos and names going up on the wall, bags of chips and cans of sodas, cluttering our workspace.
Asher doesn’t hide out in his room to coordinate the extraction now that Candace is in the know. He stays with us and tells us all as he works through the Iraq extraction. It’s about half-past yet another pizza, otherwise know as nine at night, before Asher finally confirms that an extraction is doable.
“Per Blake, Walker is funding the full extraction,” he informs us. “I talked to our man on the ground and he’s got a team in place. We’re working through the logistics, but Blake thinks we need to make his landing spot New York City, where our team can protect him.”
“Thank Blake f
or me please,” Candace says, and then looks around the table. “Thank you all. I know this isn’t a job you’re being paid for you. You’re doing this because Rick is your friend.”
“He’s our brother,” Adam corrects, meeting my stare. “And you know it.” He glances at Candace. “Which makes you a sister.”
“Thank you, Adam,” she says.
For once, I don’t have a jab to take and I’m not looking for one, either.
“Brothers from another mother,” I reply, giving Adam, and the whole lot of these assholes looks of silent appreciation before I squeeze Candace’s leg and add, “And you can thank Blake in person when we go to New York next week.”
“Next week?” she queries.
“Yes. Next week. Because one way or the other, we leave after the ball.”
“But Gabriel—”
“Will be gone, one way or the other. If he’s not arrested, we’ll keep him busy. And you need to see your father.”
“I do,” she whispers. “I do need to see him.”
I kiss her hand. “And you will. We’ll be there when he arrives.”
Her eyes water and she kisses my hand now before she stands up. “I need to freshen up.”
She heads out of the room and I don’t stop her. I stand to follow her. “I’m going to take her on a ride. She’s feeling emotional, with good reason, and needs some air.” I don’t wait for a reply from any of them. Candace and I need a break. We need some us time. We need a lifetime of us time and I know she can’t be feeling like that’s possible right now. I need to change that.
I catch up with her in the living room and snag her hand from behind. God, her hands are tiny. She’s tiny and yet the impact she has on me is larger than life. And only one other person has ever held such a big space in my life. Only Candace knows and understands this. She turns to face me and I step into her, aligning our legs. “I want to take you somewhere. More like I need you to go somewhere with me.”
“Where?”
“Someplace I haven’t been in a long time,” I say. “Too long.”
Her eyes fill with understanding. I don’t even have to tell her where we’re going. She knows because she knows me. Because time knows no boundaries for us. We’re that damn connected. “You want to see your mother.”
“Yes.” Memories stir inside me and while I fight them, there’s no escaping them tonight. “I want to see my mother.” I turn her toward the bedroom. “Grab your purse,” I say, because I want her in the habit of carrying her gun but I don’t think that’s what she needs to hear right now. It’s not what I want her to hear, either. “And grab a jacket in case it tries to act like winter out there.”
A few minutes later, we’re in the 911 and on the highway. “Tell me about your apartment in New York,” she says.
“Our apartment now,” I say. “At least until you decide if you like it or not.”
“Us living together again,” she murmurs. “That would be surreal.”
“Will be, baby. It’s happening. I’ll have movers pack you up but what about work? Is there anything you can’t do from New York?”
“I have a military contract I’m working on, but I’ll figure it out.”
I pull us into the dark parking lot of the graveyard, under a low hanging tree, and kill the engine, but I don’t reach for the door. I lean over and into Candace and she’s right there with me, leaning into me. My hand slides under her hair, settling on her neck, and there is no place like this place, that reminds me more of how many ways this woman has been my rock. “Tell me you want to move to New York with me.”
“I will go anywhere with you, Rick Savage. Anywhere. Anytime.” Her fingers slide gently over my lips, stirring heat and emotion in my chest. “Anywhere,” she repeats. “Anytime.”
I kiss her, a slow, sultry dance, wind whistling beyond the window, and sending the branches of the trees into a frenzy. Thunder rumbles, promising these storms still haven’t passed. “We better do this before we get rained on again.” I reach for the door and climb out, and by the time I’m rounding the vehicle to help Candace out, she’s already standing, shutting her door.
She steps to me and catches my hand. “You ready for this?”
I brush her wind-whipped hair behind her ear. “We might need that vodka after all when we get home. Or better yet. Lots of sex.”
She laughs. “Lots of sex and no vodka. I want you to remember the lots of sex.”
“There’s no chance of me forgetting the sex, baby,” I say, and hand in hand we cross the parking lot to the grassy area that leads to rows of headstones. A low glow of dim lights guide our path, darkness cloaking our path with the limiting lighting.
The walk to my mother’s grave is short, but it’s impactful, stirring an intense sense of déjà vu in me, and I suspect in Candace as well. I’m reliving the day my mother was buried, thinking of Candace and I both dressed in all black and trudging through this exact walk, every step weighed, like my heart. I’d held onto Candace so damn tightly I must have crushed her hand but she never once complained. She held onto me and I let her go. I was such a fucking fool. We reach the tombstone and I kneel. “You send flowers every Mother’s Day,” she says finally.
Surprised at this accurate statement that I’ve shared with no one, I glance over at her. “How did you know that?”
“Because I bring her flowers every Mother’s Day. I guess you can say that for eight years, we’ve had a meeting of the hearts, right here, with your mother.”
She never let go but then neither did I. This woman never lets me down. I lean in to kiss her and pause with a jolt of memory. In my mind’s eye, I’m here, in San Antonio.
“What is it?” Candace asks, touching my cheek.
“I came back.”
Her brow furrows. “What?”
“I came back.” My eyes meet hers. “I came to see you.” Empty space in my head begins to fill with a bitter, buried night that almost brought a broken man to her door. A man she wouldn’t have wanted back then. “I sat in your driveaway for hours. I wanted to come in.”
“When? When did you do this?”
“Years ago. I craved home, which means you, baby, but I knew I couldn’t stay. I knew I would bring hell on you. And so I came here.” I squeeze my eyes shut and it comes to me. “I sat here and drank vodka. Holy Fuck. I hid something here.”
“What? You hid—like Tag’s secrets?”
“Yes. Damn. Yes, I did. A data drive.” I dig a flashlight from my pocket and walk to the side of the tombstone where I kneel. Candace follows and I hand her the light. “Stand over me and shine that on the ground for me.”
“I feel nervous and excited,” she says, doing as I say. “This could be what we need.”
“Or not. Let’s not get too excited until we see if it’s really here and then what’s on it.” I pull a blade from my boot and start digging. That’s when my cellphone rings. I grab it and eye the unknown number. I don’t like fucking unknown numbers but right now I can’t afford to decline the call and miss a warning, or a problem, of some sort. I answer the call. “Who is this?”
“Your guardian angel,” Tag says. “Wes killed two of our men. He’s on the run and most likely coming to you. You’ve been warned.” He hangs up. Adrenaline surges through me and I grab my blade from the ground. The flashlight flickers and Candace screams.
A second later, I’m on my feet, and Wes is holding Candace in front of him, with a knife to her throat. He intends to cut her throat the way I cut his wife’s throat.
THE END…FOR NOW
***
Readers,
Please, please, please don’t hate me! I know this was a devil of a cliffhanger, but I hope you’ll think it’s all worth it in the end! I can’t wait to share Savage and Candace’s finale in SAVAGE LOVE on April 21st – it’s available for pre-order everywhere. I would love to hear what you thought of Savage’s trilogy so far! Be sure to reach out: @AuthorLisaReneeJones on Facebook and @LisaReneeJones on Instagram and
Twitter.
GET THE FINAL BOOK IN THE SAVAGE TRILOGY
https://savagetrilogy.weebly.com/
***
What’s next for me? DIRTY RICH BETRAYAL: LOVE ME FOREVER (Grayson & Mia’s wedding book) is coming soon, and of course Savage’s finale, SAVAGE LOVE! Check out that, plus an all-new trilogy coming mid-late 2020!
https://lisareneejonescomingsoon.weebly.com/
***
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THE BRILLIANCE TRILOGY
I return to my Inside Out roots on June 23rd! The Brilliance Trilogy will visit the world of Riptide (Mark Compton’s auction house) as well as its own seductively dark and sexy story!
about book one:
a reckless note
coming june 23, 2020
“I can chase you, and I can catch you, but there is nothing I can do to make you mine.”
― Morrissey
It all started with a note, just a simple note hand written by a woman I didn't know, never even met. But in that note is perhaps every answer to every question I've ever had in my life. And because of that note, I travel thousands of miles. I look for her, but find him. I'm drawn to his passion, his talent, a darkness in him that somehow becomes my light, my life. I know he has secrets. I don't care. Because you see, I have secrets, too.
I’m not Aria Alard, daughter to an Italian musician, as he believes. I’m Aria Stradivari, daughter to Alessandro Stradivari, a musician born from the same blood as the man who created the famous Stradivari violin. I am as rare as the mere 650 instruments my ancestors created. Instruments worth millions. 650 masterpieces, the brilliance unmatched. 650 reasons to kill. 650 reasons to hide. One reason to not to: him.
LEARN MORE AND BUY HERE:
https://brilliancetrilogy.weebly.com/
Savage Burn Page 16
